A Ghost From The Past

The man put the key into the door knob. With a creak of the door turning, he went inside the doors of his old house, once a home. Everything was covered in white sheets, every chair that had been present on an insightful conversation, every couch in which long nights had gone by. The kitchen in which laughs and tears had been shed. The big old wooden clock that no longer gave the hour, fixed in the exact moment the house stopped being his home, the moment everything was stolen from this poor old man.